


Be Where You Are

by ohjustpeachy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sick Steve Rogers, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 18:30:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18349301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohjustpeachy/pseuds/ohjustpeachy
Summary: Steve's had a crush on Tony, aka Hot Farmer's Market Guy for months, going every week for produce he doesn't need and terrible flirting. When he shows up sick one weekend, Tony helps him out.





	Be Where You Are

 

5:30 on a Friday night and Steve was honestly ready for bed. It had been an insanely long week, packed with meetings and training sessions for new employees at Home Shield, the security firm he’d started. He loved that he worked for himself and could make his own hours, even if that usually meant working well over 40 hours a week. But he really couldn’t complain; he was passionate about what he did and he helped keep people safe in the process. 

He’d wanted to go out and blow off steam with some people on his team after work, but had begged off at the last minute. His limbs felt heavy and exhaustion was hitting him like a ton of bricks. He felt like his head was stuffed with cotton, and he crossed his fingers he wasn’t coming down with something. He didn’t have that kind of time. 

Instead, he was picking up Chinese and a six pack for he and Bucky, stopping into CVS on his way home and grabbing some Emergen-C because, seriously, no time to get sick. By the time he unlocks his front door, his throat is scratchy on top of everything else. The changing weather probably wasn’t helping things, either. The first truly chilly days of the fall were here, and he was woefully underdressed in a burnout t-shirt and jeans. 

“Finally! I’m starving,” Bucky says by way of greeting as Steve puts the bags down and sighs, happy to  _ finally _ be home. “Hello to you too, my day was fine, yours?” Steve answers with a smirk and an eye-roll, moving into his room to throw on a hoodie. When did it get so  _ cold? _

By the time Steve gets back to the kitchen, Bucky had unpacked their order, containers covering the table. “This place has the  _ best _ egg rolls,” Bucky says, devouring more than half of one in a single bite. Steve joins him at the table, loading up a plate before dropping into a chair across from Bucky. They could both afford their own apartments at this point, and most people would say they were well past the age for having a roommate, but it worked for them. They’d been best friends their entire lives, and they both liked the company. 

“You look like shit, Stevie,” Bucky comments between bites. Well, maybe Steve didn’t  _ always _ enjoy the company.    
  
“Gee, thanks,” he says dryly, rolling his eyes. “I feel like everything’s catching up to me at once,” he admits. “Grabbed some medicine on my way home and hoping to just sleep off anything that’s starting. Nip it in the bud.” 

“Or you could, you know, give yourself a break. Your hiring process is stupidly intense, surely you have at least  _ one _ person on your team of geniuses that you trust enough to take over something?” Bucky was always on him about how much time he put into work, and Steve was starting to think he might be right; not that he would ever actually admit that to him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know Buck. It’s a process though.” Steve mumbles in response, diving into his rice.

They finish eating in the comfortable silence of decades-old friends, and Steve takes the Emergen-C, grabs a water, and is really just going to shut his eyes for a few minutes. 

When he opens them again it’s Saturday morning, sun streaming in through his window. He blinks a few times, shuffling around to find his phone and check the time.  _ 10:30.  _ He’d slept for nearly ten hours, he realized in astonishment. He had needed the rest, but it had been years since he’d slept in so late on a weekend; it felt good. 

Unfortunately  _ he _ did not feel so good. Despite the hours he’d clocked in bed, he still felt just … drained. His throat was still bothering him, and he felt a little congested. But it was Saturday and that meant he had to get up and moving if he wanted to make it to the farmer’s market before they packed up for the day. 

Steve had stopped by the market for the first time six months ago on a whim, and that was how he’d met Hot Farmer’s Market Guy.  _ Tony _ , he knew now; had known his name for months now, but that didn’t mean his old nickname wasn’t still  _ ridiculously _ true. It had been weeks before he had managed more than a polite ‘good morning’ and ‘thanks’ but one fateful morning, zucchini had bridged the gap. Steve had been eyeing them dubiously, wondering if he or Bucky knew what, exactly, to do with a zucchini, when Tony had wandered over and off-handedly mentioned a veggie pasta dish he loved to make with fresh zucchini, and the rest was history. 

Well, not so much history. Steve went to the farmer’s market every week now without fail, chatting with Tony about what was fresh, new and what he’d been cooking lately. Maybe it should’ve been obvious since he worked at a farmer’s market, but Tony really knew food. Steve told him weekly that he should be a chef, but Tony always laughed it off. They’d bonded over food and recipes, and Steve was, frankly, completely smitten. 

Steve sighs at the memory, but his reverie is interrupted by the itchy feeling in his nose returning, and he makes a mental  note to pick up some tissues while he was out. And maybe some _actual_ medicine since clearly his Emergen-C and sleep plan was failing him. He coughed as he walked into the bathroom, hoping he didn’t look as bad he felt. 

A quick glance in the mirror told him that he had no such luck. His nose was pink-tinged already, and he just looked tired. Drawn. All he could do was hope that a shower would help him look more awake, at the very least. The hot water did wake up him, but it was no time at all before the steam was wreaking havoc with his already over-sensitive nose, and he  sniffled, hurrying through the rest of his shower.

The sun is still shining after his shower, but a look at his phone tells him that it’s only going up to 55 today, and he’s already shivering lightly. He pulls on a flannel over his t-shirt, and grabs a jacket for good measure. The scarf might be overkill, he can admit that. 

“Hey Buck, I’m heading over to the farmer’s market, need anything?” Steve asked with a sniffle, rubbing his nose gently and walking into the kitchen where Bucky is inhaling a bowl of cereal.

“Off to visit your boyfriend, you mean?” Bucky waggles his eyebrows suggestively, laughing, milk trickling down his chin. 

“You’re a five year old,” Steve huffs at him, reddening at the remark nonetheless. “You have something there...” He pointed at his chin, rolling his eyes and heading out the door. 

Steve had missed the morning rush, and Tony was standing by himself at one of his tables, straightening boxes. Steve’s stomach lurched at the sight of him. He felt like he was in high school again. Tongue-tied over a crush, squirming and blushing though every conversation, only to replay it a million times later, usually to Bucky’s chagrin.

He cleared his throat as he walked over, not wanting to sound like a frog right off the bat. But, just as he approached Tony’s section, his nose twitched in irritation and he sneezed harshly, shivering. Steve sighs, frustrated with himself; h e really should have picked up tissues  _ before _ stopping at the market, but he was already running late and didn’t want to miss Tony. 

“Bless you!” Steve looked up to find Tony standing in front of him, wearing a flannel of his own and looking like the handsome epitome of fall. Steve opened his mouth to answer but was overwhelmed by a coughing fit. 

This situation was really devolving quickly. 

“Morning, Tony!” Steve cleared his throat and tried to sound upbeat, but congestion had made its way into his voice, and he finally resigned himself to the fact that getting sick was no longer a potential, but a reality. 

“You sound terrible, you should be home, not out here in the cold,” Tony tells him, looking concerned for his friend. “Not that I’m not glad to see you…” He adds quickly, looking up at Steve. 

Steve sniffed, smiling at Tony despite how bad he was feeling. “Just wanted to grab -  _ eh-heh...SNF! _ Grab a few things for dinner… _ ”  _ Steve’s able to muffle a sneeze into his scarf, but his cheeks are pink in embarrassment.  _ God, could he  _ be _ any more gross? What was he thinking coming out like this? _

“Hey,  _ bless _ you, Steve.” Tony’s voice cuts into his thoughts. “You really sound awful. Why don’t you grab what you needed, I’m almost done here anyway, I could...walk you home? If you wanted. You look dead on your feet,” Tony offers, sounding suddenly unsure. 

Steve’s blush made an immediate reappearance at this. “You don’t have to do that...I wanted to stop at a CVS on the way home anyway, get something to help with...this,” he gestured vaguely to his nose and general unwell appearance.

“We can do that too. Seriously, come on, grab your veggies. You shouldn’t be out in this weather.” Tony insists, and ten minutes later they’re making their way slowly to the pharmacy, and back to Steve’s apartment. Tony had insisted on Steve taking the few things he grabbed blearily from the market, no charge, and was now carrying his well-stocked CVS bag. They walked in companionable silence, broken by the occasional sniffle from Steve, their shoulders brushing every now and then as they walked. 

Steve would be more excited about this new development if he wasn’t feeling so completely wiped. He was  _ finally _ seeing Tony outside of their usual farmer’s market chats and he looked like a mess, could barely keep his eyes open, and was in a constant battle with his nose to keep from sneezing again.  _ Sexy. _

When they reached Steve’s apartment, Tony hesitated only momentarily before following Steve in through the door. He puts the bags on Steve’s kitchen table before turning and taking in the rest of the space. 

“This is a great place,” he comments, eyes roving. Steve thanks him, enormously grateful for Bucky’s absence. He can hear the comments now, something about not realizing that when Steve said he was going to  _ pick up _ a few things at the market, he didn’t mention it would be that _ guy.  _ Yeah, Steve could definitely do without that right now. 

“So, just, uh, you here?” Tony asked lightly. 

“Me and my roommate, Bucky,” Steve tells him, ripping open the box of tissues. He grabs several, pressing them to his nose and sighing in relief at their softness. 

Feeling infinitesimally better after blowing his nose, Steve asks if he can get Tony anything.

“Water? Coffee?” He asks.

“Do you have any tea?” Tony asks, and stops Steve as he pulls opens a cabinet in response. “Great,” Tony says, “You go sit over there. I’ll make some of this for you,” he ushers Steve out of his own kitchen and into the living room. “You always said you worked a lot, but good lord, it’s the weekend, and you’re clearly sick. Take a break!” Tony smiles as he fixes the tea. 

Steve rests his head on the back of the couch, still shivering even though they were inside now. He crushes his knuckles against his nose, determined not to sneeze for the millionth time. Tony was  _ here _ . In his apartment, making him  _ tea _ like it was nothing. They were friendly, of course, but not close friends. They talked about recipes and food and their lives… And, sure, Steve had a giant, starry-eyed crush on him and spent lots of weekend time talking Bucky’s ear off about him. They still weren’t on the level of  _ pharmacy visits and tea making.  _

His own feverish thoughts must have put him to sleep, because the next thing Steve knows, he’s waking up on the couch under a blanket, feeling like he’d run into a brick wall face-first. Had he taken medicine earlier? 

Blinking a few times, Steve pulls himself upright on the couch and it all comes rushing back to him. The farmer’s market, Tony. Tony  _ here _ in his apartment. Had he covered Steve with the blanket? The thought does something fluttery to his stomach.  
  
And he was  _ still there _ . Tony was puttering around his kitchen, moving back and forth between the counter and the stove. And now that he was more awake, even through his stuffy nose Steve could smell something incredible wafting out from his kitchen. 

Steve’s earlier dismay rushed back.  _ God _ what had he done to deserve this guy seeing him like this. He was sure there were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, nose pink from the constant sneezing and blowing, and now he’d fallen asleep so he probably had morning breath at …  _ six at night?  _ He’d been asleep for hours...again. He was truly hopeless.

A sneezing fit overtakes him before he can even say anything to Tony.

“Oh good, you’re up. Soup’s just about done,” Tony says from the kitchen. He picks up the tissue box Steve had abandoned on the kitchen table before his Rip Van Winkle routine and holds it out to Steve, who nods his thanks before blowing his nose. 

“Soup? Tony. I’m so sorry, I never meant to fall asleep, and you  _ definitely _ didn’t have to stay.” Steve snuffles into the tissues, looking up at the guy he’d been swooning over for months, hoping for the zillionth time he didn’t look too gross. The soup did smell amazing. 

“And miss an opportunity to show off my infamous, Tony Stark-secret-recipe chicken soup? I don’t think so Steven. Just stay there, it only needs a few more minutes. This stuff cures it all, let me tell you. It’s science.” Tony says this so seriously that Steve can’t help but laugh, starting to relax just a bit. 

As promised, five minutes later Tony reappears with two steaming bowls of soup. Steve shifts under the blanket to make room for Tony on the couch. He realizes he hadn’t eaten at all and is suddenly ravenous. He manages to let the soup cool for a minute before taking a spoonful. He groans a little at the first bite. 

“Tony, this is  _ incredible _ .” He says, taking another mouthful. 

“Thanks, I grew the vegetables myself, but that’s all I’ll tell you,” Tony says with a wink and a smile. “Anything more and I’d have to kill you. Oh, and I used the carrots you got at the market today. So I guess you’ll just have to come by for more. When you’re feeling better.” Tony is still smiling lightly but looking at Steve with something more serious in his eyes. 

Because that’s the kind of luck Steve has, a fit of sneezes cuts him off before he can respond, ruining the moment.  Steve looks exhausted when the fit finally ends, sniffling and rubbing his nose against his wrist. 

“I’mb sorry about this,” he says with a groan, and falls back against the cushions in exasperation. “This has got to be grossing you out, and I definitely don’t want you to catch whatever this is. Really, you don’t have to be so nice…” Steve trails off, and Tony can’t tell what’s more pink, Steve’s nose or his cheeks. 

“I swear, apologize one more time and you’re going to lose your soup privileges. And this soup is magic, remember? You need this. Besides, you’re  _ not _ gross, for one, and I’m not just being nice. You deserve to have someone make you soup when you’re sick.” Tony gives him a little smile before continuing.

“You know selfishly, I’m happy you turned up looking like you did today. It forced me to finally get my act together and spend some real time with you, because if you hadn’t noticed, all my other customers get the short shrift the minute to you walk up every week. Mrs. Jenkins has a pool going for when I finally ask you out.” Tony is the one with the pink cheeks now, and Steve is listening in stunned silence because if he’s hearing correctly…

“Ask me?… So, you…” Steve doesn’t know what to say, tongue-tied as ever in front of Tony. 

“Yes. Do you have any idea how often I’d planned to segue any of our many conversations into a smooth line about making you dinner? I can’t count that high, but I always lost my nerve. This wasn’t  _ exactly _ what I pictured my first time cooking for you being like, but…” Tony shrugs and smiles at Steve. 

Steve is smiling back at him, “Do you - _ snf!-  _  know how many salads I made with produce I bought and didn’t need? _Way_ too many. Bucky never let me hear the end of it, but I had to keep going back because, uh, Hot Farmer’s Market Guy would be there…” Steve couldn’t believe he was saying this out loud; his cold was clearly messing with his head. 

“Whoa, whoa, wait. I was  _ Hot Farmer’s Market Guy? _   Steven, I’m honored.” Tony is laughing and looking at Steve with something like adoration in his eyes, and Steve can’t believe that after  _ six months _ of hapless flirting, it was his cold that finally made something happen between them. He moved closer to Tony on the couch. 

“Well, yeah. It’s dumb, but, I mean, true. Obviously once I knew your name I didn’t…” Steve trailed off as the front door opened and Bucky came in. 

“Hey, Stevie. What smells so good? Oh, hi…”

“Tony,” Tony says, waving at him from the couch and moving to stand up. 

Bucky walks into the living room. “Tony, hey. Wait, wait,  _ Tony  _ as in…” He’s already smirking and Steve is saying silent prayer after silent prayer that Bucky doesn’t finish his sentence and give away just how much Steve has talked about Tony. Or that he would just turn and walk back out the door. Vanishing in a puff of smoke wouldn’t be too much to hope for, would it?

But no, it’s Tony who finishes that sentence.

“As in, Hot Farmer’s Market Guy? I believe that would be me, yes. Steven here showed up today looking like he’d been hit by a bus and I have to admit, I used the situation to my slight advantage. But don’t worry, your friend is in excellent hands. There’s soup left on the stove, since you mentioned the smell. It’s a miracle worker.” 

Tony is simply  _ too _ charming. Steve is smiling like a moron watching the exchange, Bucky seems to be struck dumb for the first time  _ maybe ever _ , and Tony is taking a bite of soup like nothing happened.  

“Nice to meet you, Tony,” Bucky says finally. “I’ve heard...a lot about you.” He’s smiling at the two of them on the couch. “Steve, you still look like shit, you should keep eating that miracle soup.” He says before disappearing into his room with a wave and leaving them blissfully alone once again. 

Tony chuckles, “So that’s your roommate.”

“So that’s Bucky, yeah. Surprised he didn’t take you up on the soup. He never turns down food. Anyway we were talking about…”

“My ridiculous plans to woo you with soup?” Tony had moved somehow even closer to Steve, placing his bowl on the coffee table in front of them. Steve couldn’t believe how close they were sitting. After freezing all day, he was finally warm. Maybe  _ too _ warm between Tony’s proximity and the soup and his own nerves.

Tony is suddenly mere inches away from Steve’s face, taking in his endlessly blue eyes and pinkish nose, before falling to his lips, slightly parted but inviting. He leans in. 

Steve is mesmerized, his stomach doing backflips, but pulls back ever so slightly, sniffling. 

“Tony I-I’m sick, we shouldn’t.” He says quietly. But Tony’s running a hand through his hair and it feels so nice, Steve can’t help but close his eyes and move closer. 

“Don’t care. And I hate to break it to you Steven, but I’ve been with you all day, so if it happens it happens. Besides, I have a feeling it will be worth it…” 

Tony finally closes the distance between them once and for all, and the gentle press of their lips meeting is everything Steve’s been imaging for the last six months and then some. Tony is soft but strong and take-charge, cradling Steve’s cheek in his hands so softly he can’t help but know that Tony’s pictured this moment just as many times as he has. 

For once, Steve isn’t thinking about how sick and gross he looks and sounds; there’s nothing but Tony now, and the feeling of his lips on Steve’s. Tony has one hand on Steve’s face, the other still working its way through his hair, and Steve finally relaxes, sinking into the moment and the kiss and  _ Tony.  _ God, finally. 

They break apart when Steve is forced to to admit he can no longer actually  _ breathe _ , the force of his cold striking once again. He grabs for tissues as a fit of soft sneezes hits him out of nowhere. 

“Sorry, ” Steve mumbles softly into Tony’s shoulder. There’s still barely any space between them, and Steve is wondering how he can manage blowing his nose without moving from Tony’s side when Tony presses a handful of tissues into his hand. He turns and gives Tony a small smile, thanking him. 

“ _ Please _ stop apologizing,” Tony begs him. “People do get sick, and believe it or not, I’ve seen it once or twice. Might’ve even been through it myself. You’re adorable. You’ve always  _ been _ adorable,” Tony admits, pressing a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. 

Steve smiles despite himself, blushing again. 

“Thanks, Tony,” He says, settling back into the couch as Tony lifts his arm and Steve snuggles into his side. 

He sighs, content. He fits perfectly.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the Birdtalker song of the same name, Be Where You Are!


End file.
